X Marks The Spot
by citigirl13
Summary: It takes a while but Justin knows exactly where Brian's heart is. Set sometime during season one.


**I am so tired but I HAD to write this! I thought of this story literally tonight and wrote it in my journal before writing it up here. I won't say much about it (I'M REALLY TIRED) but I hope you like it.**

**THANKS AND ENJOY!**

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own **_**Queer As Folk **_**or any of the characters**

**xXx**

**X Marks The Spot**

It starts at school, during a life drawing class. At first the drawing seems pretty accurate, but then he realises that he's made the guy a little taller on paper than he is in real life. He's also given him more chest muscle. It doesn't look right and Justin – a perfectionist – scraps the paper and begins again.

The second time is a homework assignment: to draw a tree. _Yes_ it's that lame and yet somehow he manages to make it look like _him_: but as he was drawing the bark he lightly sketches in a pattern. At first it seems just to be a circle, but before he even realises it there are traces of eyes, a perfectly shaped nose, and an arm further down the side of the bark which has a hint of a bracelet near the bottom.

At home he practices, trying to draw something – anything. He lets his hand take control, but apparently his mind can't quite let go (maybe it's his heart, but that's neither here nor there). Every time he sketches, no matter what part – chest, legs, face, _dick _– he always ends up drawing Brian.

His heart is besotted with Brian. That's no surprise. He just wishes he knew where Brian's heart is.

**xXx**

He loves it when Brian's asleep. It's the one time he seems peaceful, where there isn't a cynical look on his face. He seems younger somehow, more innocent.

If he's lucky he can even touch Brian without waking him up and having him shove his hands off. Justin doesn't dare trace Brian's jaw line but he trails his hand down his well-built chest, spreading his hand wide. He's about to lift his hand off when he feels something stir. Immediately Justin stills and a second later he feels it again.

Justin stays in that position for most of the night, though his body is stiff and cramping. He keeps his hand right there, and when he feels Brian begin to wake up he quickly marks out an _X _there so he can remember where Brian's heart is. Sometimes it's hard to find.

**xXx**

"What's wrong with you?"

Justin opens his eyes, a simple action that right now takes exceptional effort. Brian is standing at the bottom of the bed in a suit, staring at him with a serious expression on his face.

"I'm sick," Justin explains in a weak voice.

"And you came here to infect me?" Brian begins to undo his tie. "Why _are _you here?"

Justin shrugs. The truth is even though Debbie would look after him, he wants to see Brian. Just looking at him, hearing Brian's voice – even if he's complaining or insulting him – makes him feel brighter, more alive. It's the best medicine he could get his hands on.

"Get out."

"I can't." Justin tries to make himself look as pitiful as possible. "I'll faint if I have to make it to Deb's."

"It's five minutes away!"

Justin huddles into a ball under the covers, doing his best to look cute and pathetic at the same time.

Brian sighs. "Fine, stay, whatever," he says, flinging an arm in the air. He falls on the bed beside him. "But if you're sick you're out of here."

Justin is allowed to stay which he takes as a victory. He dozes on and off while Brian talks, drinks, watches television, showers, gets changed, admires himself in the mirror for the thousandth time and finally leaves for Babylon.

Justin gets up once after Brian leaves, to use the bathroom. His head is pounding and so he takes some tablets and goes back to bed. He has weird dreams, penguins marching through the apartment and raspberries raining down on him and odd music in the background. They're not pleasant penguins or tasty raspberries or nice music either.

He doesn't know what time it is when he wakes up. His head feels heavy and when he tries he can't move his forehead. The covers have also been thrown off his body when he was sure he had wrapped them round his body. When he reaches up he feels a wet cloth on his forehead.

"Hey." Justin looks up to see Brian by the bathroom. He's the one that looks as if he needs a wet towel; the sweat on his body is glistening.

"Hey," he croaks, his throat aching. He reaches to the bedside table and takes a sip of water. The cloth falls off the top of his head. "What's with this?" he asks lifting it up.

"You were hot. I put it on your head."

_Something's wrong._ Brian is staring at him intently. Justin lifts it up, feeling uncomfortable at being placed under such scrutiny. "Thanks."

"Why didn't you say you were feeling like shit?" demands Brian. His voice is harsher than usual.

Justin stares at him; right now Brian's acting insane and he seems sober. Very strange. "I did."

"You didn't tell me _how _bad." Brian approaches the bed, looking pissed off. "You should have gone home; Debbie would look after you."

"What's the big deal?" His head is still sore and Justin's not in the mood for a confusing conversation.

"You were burning up," snaps Brian. "You were muttering in your sleep and you were extremely hot. What would happen if I hadn't come home when I did?"

While Brian is saying this Justin tilts his head. Brian watches him, his eyes narrowed and mouth half-open, annoyed that the boy isn't paying attention. But then Justin pulls his wrist forward and he realises he's looking at his watch. "What?"

"It's just after twelve." Justin wonders if he's still feverish. This is the first time Brian's been back from Babylon before two since Justin's known him.

It hits him suddenly. "You were worried about me." He looks in awe at Brian. "You _are _worried about me."

Brian's beautiful face freezes for a moment before he shakes his head. "Shut up," he says, scowling.

He disappears into the bathroom for a while (and for that whole time Justin is still grinning, feeling better for the first time since he got sick) and when he returns he's naked. He crawls into bed next to Justin, stubbornly ignoring him.

The boy is still grinning despite his slight headache. "Shut up," Brian repeats without looking at him.

Justin laughs. After a few moments he takes a brave nudge closer to Brian despite his "Absolutely-No-Cuddling-Ever" rule. As Brian's eyes close Justin gently rests his head on his chest. It's warm and amazingly comfortable, much more than any pillow.

Brian's eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

He shrugs. "I'm just getting comfortable."

"Get comfortable on the _other _side of the bed." Despite his words Brian doesn't attempt to push him off.

"What if I get a fever again?" Justin asks. "You might not wake up this time. If I'm here then you'll feel me heat up and know I'm in trouble."

Brian stares at him and Justin's certain he can see him. But maybe Brian's tired because he simply leaves it, closing his eyes. Justin closes his own eyes and inwardly does a jubilant dance.

And a few minutes later Brian lifts his arm and places it – albeit slowly – round Justin, resting it across _his _chest. It's the first time Justin and Brian have slept together – literally_ sleeping _together. Justin can't stop the grin on his face and breathes in, smelling Brian's scent.

He thinks he should get sick more often.

**xXx**

He finds it in Brian's underwear drawer. He needs to borrow some (he doesn't have a lot here and all of his are dirty. Besides, he likes wearing Brian's things) and as he tries to find some that will be comfortable he feels it at the bottom.

He completely forgot about the picture. He has always loved it – maybe it's because it's of Brian. He was glad (okay, more like ecstatic) that Brian showed up to see it, but he never thought Brian would actually _buy _it. He assumed one of Brian's admires had taken it.

_But Brian did. _

Justin can't help but smile – he must look like a stupid kid. Brian bought it. _Brian bought the picture. _Which must mean he likes it. Justin wonders whether he might have bought it because it's of Brian and of course Brian loves looking at himself – but then, why spend money when he could just take a photograph?

He hears Brian slide the door open and hurriedly shoves it back where it was. "Hi," Justin calls.

Brian walks through to his bedroom, beginning to take off his tie and shirt. "How did you get in here?"

"Lindsey gave me a key."

"Bitch," Brian mutters, but he doesn't shove Justin out and so he hides a smile, knowing that Brian doesn't mind him being here. Maybe he actually _wants _him here. "What's with the underwear?" he asks.

Justin shrugs. "All mine are dirty," he explains.

"You shouldn't go rooting through my stuff." He smiles softly before pulling Justin towards him. "But I do like seeing you in my things."

Justin responds to the kiss, subtly moving his hand so it's against his chest. Justin doesn't need a roadmap; he knows exactly where Brian's heart is.

(Hint: it's right next to his)


End file.
